


Shady Dealing

by WishingOnWhishaw



Category: Easy Allies RPF, Gametrailers RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Arguing, Conflict, Crimes & Criminals, Drug Dealing, Established Relationship, Fear, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Other, Prompt Fill, Protectiveness, Threats of Violence, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:43:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7917328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishingOnWhishaw/pseuds/WishingOnWhishaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brad and Ian were supposed to go on a date tonight. Brad shows up, Ian doesn't. He hasn't heard from her, and so Brad's pretty sure he knows why she's not there. And Brad is disappointed to say the least.</p>
<p>written for a fic dialogue meme with the prompt: "I'm sick of being useless" + brad/ian</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shady Dealing

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled to contextualise something for this prompt at first, and what was my response? Create an extensive AU in my head that I can just offer a snippet of here. Maybe I'll revisit it if there's an interest, who knows. This is heavy on the angst, so we'll see if I can take it.

It’s late on a Saturday night, and after Ian hadn’t showed up to their sort-of date, Brad’s pretty sure he knows where to find her, and why she bailed on him. He walks with his head ducked down, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. He’s cautious of his surroundings, knowing this isn’t the best part of town, knowing that’s why Ian’s here.  
  
The residential buildings fade into a strip of bars and clubs, neon signs flashing broken words into the dark street. It looks sketchy, feels like a shady place, and that’s before you even take a look at the people. The gangs gathered outside the clubs aren’t huge; this clearly isn’t a thriving beacon to those looking for a good time. Instead, there are groups of regulars, drunk and disorderly, and Brad doesn’t like to assume, but he knows enough about the people Ian hangs around with to know that these people are probably dangerous, or at least have criminal records. For that reason he keeps out of their way, sticks to the edge of the sidewalk, only looking up enough to see where he’s going, to make sure nobody lunges at him, to look for Ian.  
  
He comes to a break in the row of buildings, an alley between two clubs with a few stragglers by the door and music thumping from within the buildings either side. The only light comes from the flashing strips which break out through the small windows of the clubs, but the streetlamp across the road allows Brad to see a little bit into the shadows.  
  
Brad doesn’t need to look too hard passed the dumpsters to find who he’s looking for, and when a man emerges from the alley, breezes past Brad stuffing something into his pocket before heading back into the bar, Brad knows he’s in the right place. He steps around the broken glass and stray needles on the floor, heading to the end of the dark alley and praying he isn’t greeted by a stranger.  
  
“Hey,” he says quietly, addressing the figure leaning against the wall, hood up over their head. When Brad speaks, they turn towards him, and the light hits their features just enough for Brad to get a glimpse of their face. He lets out a small breath, a little sigh of relief. “Ian. Thank God.”  
  
“Brad?” Ian asks, clearly surprised, but trying to be quiet. She looks around nervously, checking over Brad’s shoulder before grabbing the front of his jacket and pulling him further into the darkness. “What are you doing here?” She hisses.  
  
“I could ask you the same question,” Brad replies smoothly. Ian rolls her eyes, but it’s dark enough that the gesture sadly goes unnoticed.  
  
“Don’t give me that crap. You know exactly what I’m doing here. You just came to check up on me.”  
  
“I wouldn’t need to check up on you if you’d done what you said you were going to do and stopped doing this.”  
  
“Yeah, well thanks, but _this_ is how I keep myself safe, Brad.”  
  
“Oh yeah, sure, you look safe. I’m sure that knife you’ve got stashed away will be a great help when one of the idiots in there pulls a gun on you,” Brad scoffs, gesturing with his head to the building to his left.  
  
“Nobody’s going to pull a gun on me unless they see you here. So get lost, I’ll call you when I’m back at the shelter, okay?”  
  
“No, Ian. No,” Brad replies firmly as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not letting you dismiss me like this again. You said you weren’t gonna do this anymore.”  
  
“Look, Brad, I’m working, I don’t have time to—”  
  
“To explain why you’re selling drugs again? Yes you do. Or you’ll have to make time, because I’m not leaving until talk to me.” Ian glares at him, both angry and glad of Brad’s stubbornness. Whilst it is a source of frustration for her, it keeps Ian in check, keeps her on her toes, and she’s glad Brad doesn’t just let her push him over.  
  
“Alright listen,” she says finally, after some silent deliberation. “I know I said I was gonna quit, and I want to, honestly, Brad, but it’s not that easy.”  
  
“Sure it is. Look, just tell them it’s too risky and you don’t wanna be involved anymore.”  
  
“These aren’t a bunch of kids having a fucking tea party, Brad,” Ian snaps frustrated, though she somehow still manages to keep quiet. “It’s not as simple as just saying no and walking away. These people are dangerous, they have connections. Not to mention I fucking live with most of them. I can’t get out, I can’t just say goodbye and be done with them.”  
  
“Well if _you_ can’t say anything to them, I will. This has gone on long enough, Ian.”  
  
“What and get yourself stabbed? No, Brad, just… Keep out of it. I don’t think they know about you, and I’d rather keep it that way.”  
  
“No, Ian. I’m sick of being useless!” Brad cries, and Ian’s eyes dart around frantically, worried that they’re going to attract unwanted attention with Brad yelling like that.  
  
“Keep your voice down,” instructs Ian in a harsh whisper. “You’ll be even less help to me if someone calls the cops on us.”  
  
“Maybe that’s what’s best!” Brad retaliates, his voice no quieter than it was before. “Maybe then you’ll actually be able to get away from all this.”  
  
“Yeah Brad, I’ll get away alright; they’ll throw me in a fucking cell. Is that better?”  
  
“I don’t know, Ian, is it? Do you want to keep doing this all your life?”  
  
“Of course I don’t! But somehow I don’t think prison is the answer to all my problems.”  
  
“It’s better than dealing for a bunch of assholes just so they don’t kill you in your sleep.”  
  
“No it’s not, they know people inside who will— y’know what, it doesn’t matter. You can’t fix this, Brad, so just go before someone gets suspicious. Please.”  
  
“What if I could fix it?” Brad asks, finally seeing sense and lowering his voice.  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?”  
  
“This. What if I could fix this, put things right for us?”  
  
“And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?”  
  
“Move in with me,” Brad offers. “Move in with me and then it won’t matter, they won’t be living with you and you can stop.”  
  
“Brad, as much as I appreciate the romantic gesture, you realise they’ll be able to track me down?”  
  
“So we pack up. Leave the state. I don’t care Ian, whatever it takes to get you out of this shit.” Brad’s practically pleading, and Ian wants to pull him into a hug, wants to kiss him and thank him and let him take care of her. But this isn’t some fairy-tale and Brad can’t just pick Ian up and ride off with her into the sunset to get a happy ever after. She doesn’t let herself buy into it, not for a second, but she appreciates Brad’s optimism at least.  
  
“Maybe, look, Brad, this isn’t the time or place for this conversation. Go home, okay? I’ll come round later, when I’m done, and we’ll talk, but not here. Please, you have to leave.”  
  
“Promise you’ll come?”  
  
“I promise. Give me a couple of hours and I should be able to go. Don’t wait up.”  
  
“Okay,” Brad sighs, clearly not happy with the arrangement, but he knows they have no other choice. “Alright. I’ll see you later.”  
  
“See you later,” Ian echoes. She looks around again, leans to Brad’s side to check up the alley, but she sees nobody. When she comes back she grabs Brad’s jacket again, tugs him in and plants a quick kiss to his lips. She slips some crumpled bills into his pocket as she pulls away. “Get us some dinner,” she instructs as she gives him a gentle shove, pushing him away, back towards the street.  
  
Brad nods and lifts his hand in a small wave before turning his back on Ian, dropping his head again and walking briskly away. Ian smiles sadly to herself and copies the gesture, slowly lifts her hand to wave goodbye to Brad’s retreating form.  
  
At least she’ll be able to curl up against his side when she gets home tonight. At least she’s going to a home, somewhere with privacy and a nice bed with soft sheets. That’s something to look forward to, even if she doesn’t let herself fantasise about Brad whisking her away and buying a house for the two of them. Well, maybe she’ll let herself fantasise a little. It gets pretty boring when she’s out here on a quiet night with only the odd customer, and dreaming is about as close as she’s ever gonna get to a nice life.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt came via [my tumblr](http://jollyhuber.tumblr.com), feel free to talk to me there!


End file.
